


Pater Familias

by Ceris_Malfoy



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Crack, Gen, M/M, Megatron's all WTF??, demi-god!Starscream, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 17:15:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceris_Malfoy/pseuds/Ceris_Malfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a reason seekers are so different from your average mech. Megatron just hadn’t realized just how correct he’d been when he’d referred to Starscream as the spawn of the Unmaker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pater Familias

**Author's Note:**

> Eh. Just something that’s been rattling around in my brain for a while. I may come back to this one later on. But for now, it's as done as it's going to get. Enjoy.

They were arguing again, not that that was anything new to anyone watching. Starscream and Megatron had a particularly volatile relationship that only vaguely resembled anything healthy. Most mechs paid it no mind, as used to the sounds of sly sarcasm and blunt insults as they were to the sounds of Megatron’s fury and Starscream’s pain. Sometimes the mechs watching placed bets, not on who would win the bout – Megatron, hands down – but who would have the most creative combination of insults. Most of the time it was Starscream, but Megatron was more than creative enough if Starscream managed to only annoy the tyrant instead of absolutely torquing him.

The part that was new, the part that got everyone’s attention was when Starscream cut himself off during a particularly vile string of insults, helm jerking up to stare at the ceiling with something almost like awe blossoming across the seeker’s face. Everyone stared as Starscream shuddered once, hard, mouth opening as if to say something before snapping shut. No one said a word as Starscream abruptly shot an indecipherable glace at his wing-mates, then left.

It was only when Thundercracker and Skywarp rushed after Starscream, both of them in such a hurry that they were practically tripping all over the other, that the silence ceased. Theories and speculation went wild. In the center of it all sat Megatron, irritation stamped across his face-plates for all to see. And all did see it. Most even knew the cause – Megatron had been the center of Starscream's world for countless eons. There was not a cycle that went by where Starscream wasn't forcing Megatron to acknowledge him in one form or another. For the seeker to so blatantly dismiss the tyrant as if he didn't even matter....

From that cycle on, it appeared as if whatever glitch Starscream had caught was spreading amongst the seekers. Even calm, thoughtful Thundercracker and depressed, morbid Dirge were the very definition of excited. All the seekers rushed back and forth on the _Nemesis_ , some carrying supplies this way and that, others cleaning – _cleaning!_ \- and straightening up, still others leaving the ship at all hours of the day. There was no rhyme or reason to their movements, and despite the many orders Megatron issued on the matter, the behaviors never stopped. It didn't take long for anyone to notice that there were more seekers aboard the _Nemesis_ than there should be, and things only got more confusing from there. Their issues weren't limited to the seekers on Earth, either. Shockwave was constantly on communication-que, demanding to know where all the seekers that were currently 'invading' Cybertron were coming from.

No one had any clue.

No one could pin down a seeker long enough to get a logical answer out of them either, and the few seekers that did deign to stop simply said one of two things:

“ _He's_ coming. Things must be prepared.”

“Ask Starscream.”

And at the center of the insanity, was Starscream. He was _still_ ignoring Megatron as if the Decepticon Warlord didn't even exist, still running around the _Nemesis_ with an almost-indescribable look of absolute _glee_ plastered across his face, still purloining supplies from Primus-only-knew-where. Megatron tried to put a stop to it. He truly did. When orders didn't work, he attempted force – only it appeared as if there were more seekers with a functioning warp generator amongst the small armada of invading seekers than merely Skywarp. Any time it looked like Megatron would manage to catch a seeker and enforce his rule, a random seeker would pop up out of nowhere and pop away with Megatron's intended victim just as swiftly. It was maddening. Absolutely maddening.

Eventually even Megatron had given up, settling for watching the veritable circus with a particularly black look upon his facial plating that grew darker and more angry with every cycle that passed in which his Second in Command _ignored_ him. If the Decepticons were to be completely honest with themselves, Megatron’s little sulking fit would have been absolutely hilarious if it wasn’t for the fact that since the Tyrant was denied the pleasure of wringing Starscream’s pretty little neck, Megatron also seemed to be settling for beating the ever-living slag out of any mech who was stupid enough to get within reaching distance of him. By the end of the first Earth-week, mechs were scrambling to be wherever Megatron wasn’t. By the end of the second, only the exceptionally brave and stupid dared venture outside their quarters.

Thus, when the Nemesis’ systems picked up a strange signal approaching the ship, the only mech in the Command Center to notice was Megatron, and he honestly didn’t give a flying frag at this point. When the proximity alarms started going off, he glowered at the console, charged up his fusion canon, and blasted it into silence. The console gave one last dying chirp, and he blasted it again. It was at this point that fifteen seekers warped into existence in the room, each of them showing off various stages of excitement. Starscream was with them, and the usually pessimistic grouch was literally bouncing around.

“He’s here. He’s here!” Starscream practically sang out, and the teleports warped out, and warped back in, bringing even _more_ seekers.

Megatron growled.

Starscream turned to face him, acknowledging his presence for the first time in three Earth-weeks. He eyed the Tyrant speculatively, horror growing on his features as he took in Megatron. “What have you _done_ with yourself?!” the seeker shrieked finally.

“What?” Megatron ground out.

“ _Look_ at you!” Starscream was almost instantly at his side, moving faster than Megatron had ever seen him move before. “Primus only knows you’re not the greatest looking mech in the universe, but I _know_ you can clean up better than _this!_ How do you expect to make a good impression if you look like you just crawled out of the scrap-heap?”

Megatron was at his wits end. He’d barely opened his mouth to start bellowing abuse at his Second, when said Second grabbed his arm rather forcefully and started to drag him over to the main cluster of seekers.

“Skyforge, Raindancer, grab Updraft and Helix. We have less than a breem before He gets here, and I’ll be damned to the pit before I let Him see my chosen Lord looking like _this_. I’ll need as much help as I can get.”

“Sir, yes sir!” the named seekers snapped off a salute and popped away.

“You have two seconds to explain yourself,” Megatron hissed. The only reason why he wasn’t beating Starscream into a pulp was because there were still almost thirty seekers in the room, and each of them was watching. As good a fighter as he was, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to leave the proper lasting impression on Starscream before one of them warped away with his intended victim. But oh, what he was going to do when they all left....

“Not now,” Starscream muttered. Skyforge and Raindancer warped back into existence with two seekers Megatron could only assume were Updraft and Helix, and all five seekers immediately got to work, detailing his frame with care and precision. There wasn’t a nook or cranny on his entire frame that wasn’t touched, examined, cleaned, and polished to a bright shine. Now, Megatron had been one of the best gladiators to ever exist in the illegal death matches that flourished in Kaon. He was no stranger to having another mech or two detailing his frame for the exhibition matches. However, the sight of Starscream, one of the most obstinate and proud mechs he knew, willingly go down on his knees before him to start detailing his legs, clawed hands gentle and almost _worshiping_ was new territory.

His processor froze, unable to comprehend what was going on.

By the time the five seekers were done, he was still standing there, processor caught in a strange loop of surprised shock and purring contentment. His unending frustration with the insanity of the seekers had been slowly but surely conquered beneath the adept hands of five seekers pampering him. All five seekers gathered in front of him, the four strangers looking at their handiwork in awe, Starscream with smug pride.

“Yes,” Starscream said, wings twitching faintly. “He'll do just fine.”

Processor still loopy, Megatron allowed Starscream to grab his hand and lead him out of the Command Center and towards the turbolift doors. They were followed by the crowd of excitedly chirping seekers; the procession grew in size as the various warpers in the mix kept bringing in more and more seekers. On the last round of warps, Skywarp and Thundercracker settled on either side of Megatron and Starscream, wings flared out proudly. There the whole congregation of almost 120 seekers and one Warlord stood for almost two klicks before the turbolift doors opened.

Megatron promptly lost any feelings of contentment he had. He was not a religious mech by any means of the imagination. He did not believe in the gods of Cybertron, and did not believe in the gods of any other race he’d come across in his quest to conquer the galaxy. The idea of an afterlife where one either was sent down to the pits to suffer for all eternity or was welcomed back into the Well of Sparks to be eventually recycled into someone else was an idea he was not capable of computing. Apparently, however, the gods didn’t give a flying frag on whether or not he believed in them, because there was one standing right before him.

Unicron, the Dark God, the Unmaker, the Void Bringer, the Chaos Sparked. His figure was unmistakable, his presence undeniable. For the first time in Megatron’s life, he felt small and unimportant. The god was the spitting image of his statue in Axion, but so much _more_. Starscream stepped forward and dropped into a picture-perfect _sajda._ * There was silence for a long moment before the Dark God smiled. “Rise, my child,” the Unmaker said, voice deep and resonating to the point that Megatron could physically _feel_ it.

Starscream rose, smiling gently. “ _Mag’na*_ ,” he said reverently. “You honor us with your presence.”

Unicron looked at the gathered seekers. “So few have come to greet me,” he said. “Tell me, child. Where are your young? Where are your brothers? Where are the Children of Vos?”

Starscream’s wings drooped. “Vos is dead, _Mag-na_ , and only memories inhabit it. My young are murdered, my brothers are scattered. Those that have gathered here are only those that I’ve managed to protect personally since the fall of our great city.”

Unicron was silent for a moment. “You have much to tell me, it seems. That discussion will have to be had later.” Unicron’s burning gaze settled on Megatron, and so too did Starscream’s. Megatron absently noted that Starscream shared Unicron’s optical shape and the intensity of his stare. “Tell me, child, who do you present before me?”

“ _Mag-na_ , may I present my Lord?” Starscream’s wings resumed their proud tilt, smug pride radiating from every inch of him.

Unicron’s gaze intensified. “You have chosen then?”

“Yes.”

The Dark God snorted. “We shall see if he’d good enough for my favorite child.” He turned his gaze back to Starscream. “Come. Introduce me to those who’ve gathered here.”

As the pair walked off, followed by Skywarp and Thundercracker, Megatron absently wondered what Starscream had just gotten him into.

**Author's Note:**

> I offer no excuses.
> 
> *Sajda (plural Sajadat) is the form of prostration in the Islam religion which is used to praise, glorify and humble oneself in front of Allah, and is a vital part of the five obligatory prayers performed daily; this is deemed obligatory for every Muslim whether the prayers are being performed individually or in congregation. 
> 
> I decided to purloin this form for this universe, and by no means do I mean any disrespect by doing so. 
> 
> In this universe, while the whole of Cybertron worships and praises Primus, most consider Unicron as little more than a villain – they often forget that he is a god as well, the equal and opposite of Primus, and a vital part of the balance. If any do worship him, it is with great reluctance and no small amount of anger. The seekers are hated and feared by most of the Cybertronian population because they alone worship Unicron with the fervor and passion that everyone else saves for Primus. 
> 
> Because the two gods are opposites, in my mind that this means that whereas Primus sleeps away the ages and occasionally provides divine intervention through the Primes and the matrix, Unicron is an active player in Cybertronian history. Do to their respect and worship, he tends to favor the seekers above all others, and has been known to occasionally lay with whomever catches his fancy. Though he has done so many a time, he has only had two or three sparklings born from such a union, and Starscream is both the youngest and the only living one. So while he considers all seekers to be his children, Starscream is his favorite one because he is his actual child. 
> 
> This also plays into my personal head-fannon that Starscream’s “immortality” steams from some sort of divine parentage, and considering his nature and behaviors, I cannot see Primus being the one to have sparked him. 
> 
> **Mag'na - I've been playing around for years with the concept of creating a language specific to seekers in a culture where there are no such things as seeker-femmes. Mag'na is one of the words I eventually settled on in place of 'Sire'. It is highly formal, and usually only used when the Sire in question is a noble or higher. Unicron definitely quallifies for the higher bit. Ag'na is also a formal use of 'Sire', but for those not of noble birth. Na'na is the informal use of 'Sire' throughout the entirety of seeker culture. (High-Father, Low-Father, Daddy, respectively. The 'na' is the masculine part that denotes 'Sire'. For the 'carrier', there is only two terms - the formal, Mag'ar and the informal, Ma'ar (they both mean the same exact meaning, it's just a difference of when and where the word is used). 
> 
> Also, the Nemesis is much larger in this 'verse than in the actual cartoon. I made it so that it could literally house an army through space, not just a couple dozen. 
> 
> Originally posted on Fanfiction.net.


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